


The Arrow of Apollo

by beck_a_la



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Shameless Smut, Trope Subversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 19:19:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1755029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beck_a_la/pseuds/beck_a_la
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone has a dream about the Arrow of Apollo...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Arrow of Apollo

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posting this from ff.net. My first foray into fiction writing.
> 
> No beta, blah blah. Rated M for a reason.

She laughs as he peels her flight suit off her shoulders- a deep laugh, low in her throat and full of an emotion she can't quite place, foreign after so long at war. Her laugh turns to a giggle as his mouth follows his hands down the sides of her body, tickling light kisses to her waist. She can feel the heat of his hands and his mouth warming her skin even through the double layer of tanks. Impatient, she grabs his collar, pulling him roughly back up into a kiss while her hands make short work of his clothes- yanking his flight suit all the way down past his hips to puddle on the floor, and hooking her thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and boxers.

"A little eager, are we Starbuck?" he jokes, and she replies "You're still wearing too many clothes," as his shorts and boxers join his flight suit around his ankles.

"I could say the same thing-" he starts, and can't seem to finish the sentence because her hand is wrapped around his cock and he can feel her breath warm on his ear as she whispers "Let me feel your arrow, Apollo."

It's his turn to laugh now, a laugh that turns into a groan as her hand moves slowly up and down his length. Somehow he finds the will to say "You know how much I hate that joke," but now she's moving her hand faster, pumping up and down while her other hand grips his ass and he can't remember why he objects to it anymore.

"But it fits so well, Apollo," her breath is still tickling his ear, making him shiver with every word. Her mouth moves lower, sucking on the pressure point on his neck. She can feel him shuddering, starting to buck his hips into her hand. She loves seeing him like this, on the brink of losing control, and she wants to push him over the edge.

"Your shaft," and she slows the movement of her hand, hearing his low moan of disappointment at the release of pressure.

"So long, and straight, and hard," and she drops to her knees, looking up at him with a wicked grin.

"The arrow of a god," and she winks at him as she slowly takes his length into her mouth, drawing him in completely. His hands move into her short hair, holding on as if to a lifeline while she swirls her tongue around the sensitive head of his cock.

A low moan escapes from his throat, and she echoes him, the vibrations in her throat humming around his cock as she pumps him with her mouth. She hollows her cheeks around his length, pulling him deep inside her mouth, and cups her hand around his balls. The feel of her tongue on the underside of his cock is enough to send him over the precipice.

"Frak, Starbuck, I can't- I'm going to-" and with one more groan he is spilling himself into her mouth.

Getting to her feet, she smugly wipes a corner of her mouth with one finger and he pulls her to him, tasting himself on her lips. Stepping out of his puddle of clothes, he pushes her up against the wall and pulls her flight suit the rest of the way down, never breaking contact with her mouth. Her shorts and regulation briefs quickly follow and now it's his turn to drop to his knees in front of her.

His hands grip her hips; she's sure she'll have bruises tomorrow and the thought gives her a secret thrill. He looks up at her and winks slyly before ducking his face down between her thighs, trailing light kisses up the inside of her legs almost to her center before moving to the other leg, denying her contact where she wants it most.

The warm tickle of his breath combining with the light scratch of his stubble is causing her senses to overload and she moans low in her throat, bucking her hips toward his teasing tongue. He presses her hips back against the wall and flicks his tongue lightly across her swollen nub, forcing another groan from between her lips.

His right hand slips between her legs, one finger probing gently between her slick folds, while the rough pad of his tongue massages her clit. She is breathing hard now, gasping for air like she's been running laps in extra g's.

"Apollo- Frak, more- harder, frak," her words are jumbled, she can't seem to string together a coherent thought, and when he slips a second finger inside her she gives up any pretense of self-control. Her words turn into a moan, and as he pumps his fingers inside her the moan becomes a scream, raw and rough, as she shatters around his hand.

He is already hard again- watching her come apart at the seams has that effect on him- and he stands up fast, sheathing himself inside her warm folds while she is still riding the wave of her orgasm. She gasps as he fills her, and wraps her legs around his waist. His hands cup her ass and he kisses her hard. She can taste herself on his tongue.

She thinks she is going to die if she doesn't take a breath, and forces herself to break the kiss. Gasping, she threads her hands through his hair, forcing him to look her in the eye.

"Your arrow is in my quiver, Apollo," she whispers, and laughs when her teasing momentarily breaks the rhythm of his thrusting. He responds by pinning her more firmly against the wall and stopping his movement entirely. He thanks the gods for this minute of self control- feeling himself inside her is almost enough to bring him to the edge, and the willpower it takes for him to hold himself still is fraying quickly- and growls in her ear "I told you I hate that joke."

"But you love me, and gods Apollo, I love your arrow," she laughs again, and tightens her walls around his length. He groans, but doesn't move his hips. "Frak, Apollo, I want you. I need the arrow of Apollo," she moans in his ear, and braces herself on his shoulders so that she can slowly slide herself up and back down his length. The feel of her slick walls moving around him shatters the last bit of will he had to stay still, and he matches her thrusts, harder and faster than before. Her head rolls back to rest against the wall as his mouth moves down the hollow of her neck, her hands braced on his shoulders, and she can feel herself ready to fall apart again.

She looks into his eyes and he whispers "Kara. Kara, wake up."

* * *

 

Lee awakens with a start.

It is 3 am, according to the tiny clock in his bunk, the middle of the graveyard shift- anyone not out flying cap is fast asleep, the last Triad game over hours ago. But something has woken him- a sound in the bunkroom.

He pulls his curtain back a bit and looks out- no one else seems to be awake, but there the noise is again- a low moan, coming from Kara's bunk.

"Of course," he thinks. Kara has been having nightmares off and on since she came back from Caprica several weeks ago. Everyone pretends like they don't hear her when she starts awake in the middle of the night- it's just easier not to acknowledge that the indomitable Starbuck is seriously frakked up, not to mention she'd bite the head off of anyone who even suggested she might need help.

It is killing him, though. Hearing her in pain, not knowing what horrors she was reliving in her nightmares, but knowing that she doesn't want anyone- including him- to see her weakness.

"Maybe I can wake her up before it gets too bad," he thinks, and pushes himself out of his bunk and pads quietly across the room in his boxers.

Slowly drawing her curtain back, he sees her- she has kicked off the blanket, and the sheet is tangled around her ankles. She is flushed, a light sheen of sweat on her skin, though she is clad in nothing but her regulation briefs and sports bra.

A pang of guilt hits Lee- she wouldn't want him to see her like this, so vulnerable- but he pushes it aside when he hears her moan again. It is a quiet sound, deep, full of emotion that she rarely shows to anyone when she is awake, and it cements his resolve.

Gently sitting down on the side of her bunk, he draws the curtain closed around them. He lays down next to her as she moans again, louder this time, and it seems almost like she said his name- "Apollo."

"Shhhhhh," he whispers, "I'm here, Kara. You're dreaming." She turns towards him in the bunk, and he draws her close to him. She buries her face in his neck, and for a moment he just lays there, drinking in the scent of her hair, of her, that scent that is somehow unique to her (even though everyone on Galactica is using the same watered-down regulation shampoo and soap now). Reveling in the feel of her body next to him. It feels right, like coming home. For a brief moment he thinks about what would happen if he didn't wake her up, if they just stayed like this all night. Then she moans a third time, and he knows she is talking in her sleep- it sounds like she is saying "need- arrow of Apollo-" and he knows that he has to wake her, to save her from whatever horror she is reliving from her time on Caprica.

"Kara. Kara, wake up," he whispers, holding her close to his chest- he tells himself he is holding her so tightly to prevent her from lashing out and hitting him as she wakes up, but he knows deep down that it is selfish, that he just can't bear to let her out of his arms while she is so vulnerable and afraid. For once he is going to be strong for Kara, to show her that she can let her guard down around him and it will be all right.

She stirs against him, stiffens in his arms, and he knows she is awake. She blinks up at him, and he sees the recognition dawn in her eyes, and something else as well- embarrassment, he thinks, that he has seen her weakness.

"Apollo, what-" she begins, her voice hoarse from sleep. He cuts her off.

"Shhhh. You were having a nightmare, but it's ok now. I'm here Kara, you're awake. It's ok."

"Get out. Get out of my bunk. Get the FRAK out of my bunk, Lee," she whispers, pulling away from his arms.

"Kara-"

"OUT. Get out," she turns her back to him, facing the wall. He can see her shaking, but doesn't want to wake any of the other pilots, so he capitulates.

"Ok. I'm going. But if you need anything-" he starts to reach for her shoulder, then thinks better of it. He closes the curtain behind him, and gets back into his bunk.

He can hear her breathing from the other side of the bunkroom as loud as if he were still in her bed, like he has a special sense, a Kara sense, tuned just to her. He lies awake for what seems like ages, listening to her ragged breaths. Finally it seems that she is steady, back to sleep, hopefully in peace this time. Sleep is still a long time coming to Lee, but when he does drift off he dreams of her- of blonde hair and the scent of soap and the feel of her body against his.


End file.
